


Night Falls in Little Kirkwall

by agent_of_mischief



Series: Game nights at The Hanged Man [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, I will make those edgy bitches love each other one fic at a time just watch me, M/M, Party Games, People are nice to Anders, Swearing, Team Bonding, Team as Family, kinda cracky but not full crack, kinda liberal usage of the word whore as one of the game roles, mafia/werewolf party game, not in a judgmental way in this house we support sex workers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_of_mischief/pseuds/agent_of_mischief
Summary: A silence fell over the table then, everyone sharing mistrustful glances with their neighbours. For a moment it reminded Hawke of their early days as a group, rife with mistrust and barely held together by the skin of his teeth. That alone came to show what a strange little game that was, somehow shaping up to be more divisive and cutthroat than Wicked Grace.Anders teaches the gang a game the apprentices used to play at the circle, which leads to surprising alliances, betrayal, and tantalizing promises for one Garrett Hawke.
Relationships: Anders & Fenris (Dragon Age), Anders/Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Male Hawke
Series: Game nights at The Hanged Man [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938703
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Night Falls in Little Kirkwall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this has been sitting in my WIPs way too long, and it was inspired by the Among Us craze a while back. Specifically me thinking, "hey what if the da2 gang played the party version game of that", and here we are.

"I am _not_ an Abomination!" Anders punctuated the heated statement by not quite slamming but rather _audibly clanking_ his mug against the table. A few drops of the barely touched cider splashed over the rim.

"You could have fooled me," said Fenris, his lips curling in a smirk impossibly equal parts self-satisfied and disdainful.

Hawke took a huge gulp of his ale and sighed, turning a baleful gaze to the off-brown brew. _This is barely the first round and they're already at it._

"Of course you cannot leave your prejudice outside the door for once," the mage sneered. "No, you have to play Templar and harrass me. Is Merrill one too, while at it?"

"Pah! I don't know about her, but _you_ haven't stopped fidgeting," Fenris accused.

"But it's Anders, he's always fidgeting," Merrill pointed out, ever so helpful. Anders rewarded her attempt at showing support with a glare.

"I mean, I'm sorry to say this Fenris, but Merril's got a point. I've been catching a continuous stream of fidgeting from over here, no telling pauses to consider which one of us he's going to murder, or anything," said Hawke contemplatively.

"You shouldn't even be sitting that close for you to be able to tell," the elf griped.

And sure enough, Hawke could see how the arm he had firmly wrapped around Anders' waist technically did not comply with the no-touching-each-other rules of the game. He wasn't about to remove it. "I'm just doing that now, we're not that close during the 'night'," he muttered defensively all the same.

"Oh, I bet you're even closer than that during the night." Isabela's input, as always, served to distract from the task at hand. _Isn't that what a sneaky Abomination would do,_ wondered Hawke, giving the pirate a scrutinizing look.

Anders, on the other hand, seemed intent to ignore the innuendo he'd normally either double down upon or at least deign to blush at. "Upset because he's disputing your baseless accusations? Not to mention how suspicious it is to rush to accuse someone so early with no real evidence. Trying to deflect suspicion, Fenris?"

"Unlike you, mage, I can actually keep my mouth shut when I want to avoid suspicion. I am merely making an observation here."

"If we have no clues yet anyway, let's just execute one of those two so they will stop bickering since the dead aren't allowed to speak," Isabela suggested brightly. "Who started it this time?"

A quiet murmur of "Fenris" rose around the table, which made the elf lower his head in slight embarrassment.

"Ha!" exclaimed Anders triumphantly.

"I really don't think it's Fenris either," Hawke interjected. The warrior did know how to play the long game _._ An obvious attempt at deflection right away actually sounded more like something Anders would do.

"Whose side are you on?" Anders groused, making a half hearted attempt to wriggle free from Hawke's grasp.

"We shouldn't vote based on who’s being annoying, that's exactly what the killers want." Aveline spoke up for the first time, every bit the guard captain in the way she drew herself up.

"Abominations," Merrill chimed in.

"Whatever," Aveline huffed.

"What about the Templar? Haven't they found anything out?" Donnic, who'd been sitting quietly until this moment must have been emboldened at seeing his wife take charge.

"That's realistic at least," Hawke quipped.

"What would be realistic is if they made a baseless accusation every round, and if everyone on the table knew who they are because of their dumb loud armour, and if they got to pick who we execute without-"

"We _get it_ , Blondie, but we're getting off track here," Varric suddenly cut in. "Now, the town has to come to a decision soon, before it's nightfall again."

A silence fell over the table then, everyone sharing mistrustful glances with their neighbours. For a moment it reminded Hawke of their early days as a group, rife with mistrust and barely held together by the skin of his teeth. That alone came to show what a strange little game that was, somehow shaping up to be more divisive and cutthroat than Wicked Grace.

"It would be easier if someone had actually been killed the first night." Isabela's statement broke Hawke's train of thought. "For example, if Anders had died we could assume that it's probably Fenris, or at the very least that it's not Hawke because he wouldn't wanna risk having to sleep in Muffin’s dog bed."

"I'm not that whipped," Hawke mumbled, fully aware his statement lost some of its strength on account of him pretty much clinging to the mage. 

Anders made a noncommittal sound of assent, but whether that assent was meant for Hawke or Isabela neither rogue could guess. _Oh well._ It had gotten them too long to get to this point for Garrett to consider slowing down any time soon, and Isabella could joke to her wicked little heart's content.

"Then the Healer did great. Or is it the Prostitute? What did we end up calling it?" Merrill tilted her head, trying to recall the smattering of rules Anders had explained, which Varric had ended up further complicating for 'storytelling value'.

The original Circle game, as Anders had explained it, had very few and simple roles. Two Abominations working in tandem and picking a victim each night, a Knight-Captain now simply named ‘Templar’ investigating a single person each night, and a Healer who picked one person to keep at the infirmary overnight, granting them immunity for the round. Aside from giving the instructions the narrator, in this case a dwarf that was too creative for his own good, made sure everyone behaved, kept their eyes closed as instructed, and didn't reveal their role by accident.

"If you'd told me we'd be conflating those two out of all things," Anders muttered drily.

Hawke had a suggestive thing or ten to offer to that, but he wisely decided to keep them to himself. Instead he grinned and said: "Alas, I've never been dragged to spend the night at a brothel by an overzealous worker, while I get dragged to the clinic by our healer way too often."

"Oh, and is the end result so different for you, Hawke?" purred Isabela.

Hawke sputtered and looked sideways at Anders, who gave him a 'you walked right into that one, love' look before turning to the pirate and sighing dramatically. "If only it were so. He's not all that fun when he's bleeding from everywhere and has half of his bones broken."

"Ouch," said Hawke.

"Yes, that’s about how you sound." Anders grinned at him and turned back to the table. "Anyway, if Fenris isn't the Abomination- Maker that's strange to say- because he's talking uncharacteristically much, what about those that have barely said anything?"

At this nearly every pair of eyes fell to Sebastian, who started slightly before regaining his usual, if paper thin, serene composure.

"I don't feel the need to speak when I've nothing to contribute. If that is to be my condemnation, so be it," he said somewhat imperiously.

 _Bloody martyr_. Hawke could feel Anders' incoming eyeroll the way mabaris can sense a storm on the horizon. Never mind that the apostate shouldn't be one to talk about dramatics.

"That said," Sebastian continued, completely ignoring the healer's sour expression, "you all seem to be taking too many things for granted. Aveline isn't the guard captain _in_ the game, and Anders isn’t necessarily the, um...”

“You can say 'whore', I'm sure Andraste won't mind,” Anders teased, though there was something dark under his honeyed voice. ‘ _Or you can dare say abomination,’_ it said, at least to Hawke who knew the man and his voice all too well by now. After all, for all their bickering Anders actually allowed Fenris to say things that he definitely would not allow Sebastian -or anyone who wore Andraste’s face on their crotch for that matter- to even utter.

“Healer,” the prince said, giving a sharp look at Anders.

Hawke instinctively tightened his grip around the mage’s waist, and levelled the archer with a sharp look of his own.

"Or maybe it is him, that's why they were so good at it from the get go," Hawke said, relishing his own little innuendo, which wasn’t lost on interested parties if the sparkle in Isabela’s eye was any indication.

“Or maybe _you_ are the Abomination, and that’s why you’re telling us who is and isn’t one. Who’s your accomplice, Anders or Fenris?” Aveline suddenly levelled at him.

Merrill, bless her heart, gasped at the suggestion, while Fenris and Anders were quick to exclaim indignant denials. Anders even went as far as to pull away from Hawke’s embrace and slide a bit further down the bench, to his position for the “night” part of the game.

“Aha! Maybe you’re onto something there, Man-Hands. But what if his accomplice is Sebastian, and they’re only _pretending_ to fight?” Isabella added enthusiastically.

If there was something this woman loved more than innuendo it was rocking the boat. _No wonder she lost hers,_ mused Hawke, before vaguely wondering if he should be offended at how excited his friends were to call for his blood.

"I am certainly not," replied Sebastian.

"Now, that's exactly what an Abomination would say," Anders was quick to accuse, taking a bit too much pleasure in it, if the smug tilt of his mouth was anything to go by. Hawke felt the sudden urge to kiss the beautifully infuriating little smirk off his face.

"Hm, actually I think it's usually something like 'mmblaaargh', and then it attacks us," said Hawke, in an effort to distract himself. He snorted a little at his own joke, but no one else did, and the sudden attention focused back on him made him sorely regret making it.

"So, Hawke?" suggested Aveline.

"Still think it's Anders," Fenris muttered sullenly.

"Still think it's Sebastian," insisted Anders.

"Well then," Varric said, the narrator theatricity colouring his timbre, "is the town ready to make a decision on who is to pay for… well, nothing but a rumour really at this point, since no one met their untimely end on our first night."

A noise of displeased assent rose from the table; no one was happy to make a hurried decision, but everybody wanted the game to progress.

Varric gave a slow nod. "Let the first who cast an accusation also cast the first vote. Fenris-"

"Anders," Fenris said before Varric could even finish his sentence.

"Alright Blondie, that's one vote, keep the tally," said Varric.

Anders lazily lifted a hand and proceeded to raise his middle finger in Fenris' direction. Hawke suppressed a snort for his friend's sake.

"Very mature," Fenris drawled.

"I think we all know what you're gonna say after this, but want to offer your own suggestion?" Varric asked, tilting his head towards Anders' direction.

"I'd love to say Fenris, but I don't think it's him, and I truly think it's Sebastian, so that's my vote," said Anders, gritting each word out like they physically pained him.

"Alright if Anders is opting _not_ to be petty and fight Fenris, I'm sold. Sorry Sebastian," Isabela declared, with not an ounce of contrition in her voice.

Sebastian dutifully held up a second finger, avoiding any rude gestures unlike Anders.

"I think I'll go with that too then!" exclaimed Merrill.

"I will still say Anders," said Aveline, levelling the healer with a suspicious squint.

For a moment Hawke was sure Anders would flip her off with his other hand, but he simply let his pointer join his middle finger and rolled his eyes.

No one was surprised when Donnic followed her lead. But it took Hawke a moment to digest that he somehow went from prime suspect to tiebreaker. He could always pick a third party, leave it a tie and let no one take the fall. But Anders wasn't the only petty man at the table, so Hawke furrowed his brow and looked from his lover to Sebastian, pretending to be deeply conflicted before smirking and pointing at the archer.

"You're all making a mistake," said Sebastian, lifting a fourth finger and letting his shoulders drop.

"The town has made its decision. The accused keeps his head held high, meeting the eyes of those who condemned him as he's escorted to the little town square, where a makeshift pyre has been set upon a raised platform," Varric narrates the somewhat ghastly scene.

"We're burning them? That's kind of barbaric," Anders muttered.

"I've seen you fireball abominations, _and people,_ to charcoal," Aveline pointed out, rolling her eyes.

"It's not barbaric, it's religious symbolism," retorted Varric. "Now hush and let me continue."

"The entire town holds its breath, waiting for the horrible transformation to surely occur at any moment. But the man's flesh is only twisted by the force of the flames. The smoking husk that remains, hours later after all the screaming has ended and the fire has died down, is still that of a man. An innocent has died at your hands today."

"Actually, I was the Healer," Sebastian grumbled, flipping the card he'd drawn at the start on the table, the Queen of Songs.

"You were the whore, you mean?" Isabela cackled in delight, despite the bad implications of killing the helpful role so early.

"Can't we just call it 'healer'," Sebastian bristled. "It makes more sense anyway."

"The dead don't talk," Anders pointed out, way too unapologetic for someone who just got the wrong person executed.

"Alas, our dear Choir Boy was the… healer moonlighting as a prostitute," Varric settled for after a second of deliberation, "who only got to work for one night, but at least that night he saved a life."

"Who did you save?" Merrill prompted, instantly grabbing everyone's interest with the prospect of their first clue.

"The dead don't talk," Sebastian said, folding his arms over his chest, and shooting a hopeful looking Anders a nasty look.

"Them's the rules, Daisy," Varric confirmed to the crestfallen elf.

"If this was real, wouldn't the person who was saved still know and be able to tell everyone tough?" the blood mage pointed out, rather acutely.

"That's why I suggested changing the role into something people would actively hide, sometimes even when lives are on the line," Varric said.

Merrill furrowed her brow. "Like...Oh! People wouldn't be ashamed of going to a healer but they would be ashamed of going to a brothel! Even though I don't quite get why they would be ashamed of that, especially when murders are happening, but people are strange like that aren't they?"

"Oh, work as a healer long enough you'll treat a thing or two people would go to great lengths to hide," mused Anders. "Though brothels are still often involved. That’s what ‘physician’s confidentiality’ is for. In fact, I know embarrassing stuff about, hm, everyone at this table."

"We are getting off track again," Aveline snapped. Hawke would swear her cheeks were redder than a moment before, and she was giving Anders worried glances that probably had nothing to do with the game. It was a shame Anders never actually broke confidentiality, not even for Hawke.

"Quite right. Your heinous task done and your souls laden with guilt, you all slowly head to your homes and lock the doors tight. No one will be seeking Sebastian's company under cover of night tonight, but even behind locked doors you somehow can’t feel truly safe. With that, night falls in Little Kirkwall, everyone close your eyes," Varric instructed.

Hawke followed the instruction, and he trusted everyone else would too. He listened intently for the sound of any movement, or for any reaction from Sebastian, who now in "death" would be able to keep his eyes open and see who’s who. The table was quiet but for the ambient rustle of fidgeting and impatient foot-tapping.

"The Templar opens their eyes, for they patrol the streets every night in hopes of catching the Abomination. Whose house do you approach?" Varric continued.

There was a silent exchange between Varric and the Templar then, and after a few seconds the dwarf spoke again.

"The Templar closes their eyes, returning to bed, finished for the night. As midnight draws near, the Abominations open their eyes and prowl the streets for their next victim.”

Hawke tried to listen even more intently. For a moment he envied Sebastian, despite the fact that he was out of the game now, and he held his breath trying to catch any incriminating sound.

"I see, alright then," Varric muttered. "The Abominations close their eyes."

The deed was done, and Hawke had caught nothing, not the slightest bump or rustle. _It has to be someone sneaky and silent,_ the rogue realized, and his thoughts drifted to Isabela. He decided to suggest that during the next morning’s discussion.

Varric gave the Abominations a moment to settle before speaking again. "Dawn finally breaks in Little Kirkwall, and everyone opens their eyes.”

Hawke blinked a few moments to adjust to the low light, eagerly looking left and right at the faces and postures of everyone else, in the few vulnerable moments before they could slip their game expressions on.

"Or that is, almost everyone opens their eyes, but not one Garrett Hawke," the dwarf added after a dramatic pause.

"What?" Hawke squeaked indignantly.

"The dead don't talk," Isabela reminded him gleefully. 

_It's definitely her,_ Hawke thought, but he didn't say anything. Those were the rules after all. Still, it came as a shock, he hadn't even considered he'd be picked off so early, practically first. At least he'd find out the truth soon, as long as they got the voting over with.

Hawke spent the entire round of discussion only half listening, partially because it was frustrating to not be able to contribute, and partially because he was too busy making his own theories in his head about the identities of the Abominations.

 _Isabela and Merrill, that's why they voted off Sebastian_ . _No, Isabela and Fenris, and they were shrewd enough not to vote for the same person since it didn't even matter which one of the two got executed. What if it's Donnic, what if he's a secret criminal mastermind?_

Hawke's rampant thoughts were interrupted when he heard Fenris posit the same Isabela theory he himself had thought of. With one rogue dead and proven innocent, everyone seemed keen to point their fingers at the other, and Isabela's attempt to direct suspicion to Anders- “ _he's the one who got our lovely Prostitute killed unfairly”-_ seemed feeble, especially with Hawke as the first victim. Hawke also had a hard time seeing Anders killing him off, not because of sentimental reasons, but if anything because Anders wouldn't last too long in a game of persuasion without someone _persuasive_ willing to take his side. And willing Hawke was, as well as really persuasive, a buffer to Anders’ contrarian nature.

When the unanimous vote singled Isabela out Hawke waited with baited breath, hoping for a bit of vindication even from beyond the grave. But as her execution was described -death by hanging for the pirate staying at the Hanged Man, and Garrett was starting to see a pattern with the symbolism and could only hope Varric wouldn't come up with anything insensitive or traumatic when Anders inevitably turned the mob against him- no description of a monstrous transformation came. Isabela was revealed to be a simple townsperson, and all things considered she took it with good grace. She flipped her card on the table and left her seat to come hover somewhere behind Garrett.

"Hey ghost, want to grab a drink?" she whispered to him as Varric took up his narration again.

"I have to see who it is first," Hawke whispered back. His ‘evil mastermind Donnic’ theory was gaining traction in his head.

"The Templar opens their eyes to investigate another night, who do you pick?" Varric was saying.

Following the dwarf's eyes Hawke saw Merrill looking around thoughtfully. He turned at Isabella with raised eyebrows and the pirate just shrugged in response. They both watched her point at Fenris, and Hawke had to bite his tongue to stay quiet when Varric nodded an affirmative.

 _The little bastard. I forgot how quiet he can be even in that armour of his,_ Hawke thought dejectedly. But now was the interesting part, the moment of truth. He practically vibrated in his seat when the words "the Abominations open their eyes" left Varric's lips. He saw Fenris, unaware of being caught, smirk smugly, and he followed the elf's eyes across the table. On Hawke's right Anders had opened his eyes and mirrored Fenris's cat who got the cream smile.

The indignant gasp Garrett almost let out was muffled by Isabela's quick palm over his mouth. Anders, for his part, didn't even fake contrition. He gave Hawke a little shrug and turned back to his partner in crime. A few looks, nods, and imperceptible gestures were all the two needed, and just like that the game was technically over and won, as Aveline was taken out and the two Abominations remained along with two innocents.

Varric seemed to hesitate for a moment in his narration, also becoming aware of the stalemate, but rather than stop there and reveal the two winners, he suddenly snapped his fingers and beamed. “Now that things are getting dire, dear friends, each remaining person can cast two votes, so the townspeople have one last chance to win.”

"The game works better with a bigger crowd," said Anders apologetically, as if the game hadn’t worked just _peachy_ for him and Fenris, and Hawke had to school his expression to avoid showing anything and spoiling the game for the four remaining. Still, neither he nor Isabela moved towards the bar, opting to stay and watch in silent sympathy as poor Merrill tried to point everyone towards Fenris without openly revealing her role as the Templar.

Hawke saw the instant Anders caught on and watched his lover's impeccable innocent act with rapt fascination. _Where’s notoriously bad liar Anders? This Anders can give the Orlesians a run for their money,_ Garett thought and damn it all, part of him enjoyed what he saw despite the lingering betrayal. When Fenris quickly caught on he opted to play the aggressor once more, and to vehemently accuse his own partner. And if the choice felt peculiar, it seemed to pay off as moments later Hawke watched the two Abominations and poor clueless Donnic execute their own Templar.

With the game officially lost, the reveal was made to the last few still in the dark. The mayhem the first few dead had been holding back finally broke loose, while the two wiiners beamed and preened at their victory. It was almost heart warming to watch them like that, cooperating and happy, taking a break from annoying each other to gleefully annoy everyone else with their more than a little braggy explanation of how they duped everyone.

"I can't believe I _defended_ you two, fell right for your act," grumbled Hawke.

"Thank you for that, Hawke. We wouldn't have made it without you," said Fenris with a smirk.

"Yes we counted on you, really," added Anders, leaning against him playfully.

"Oh, stuff it," huffed Hawke, turning slightly away. He'd meant it when he said he wasn't that whipped.

“The next round is on me, how’s that for making it up to everyone?” Fenris suggested, his voice still uncharacteristically cheerful.

The elf so loved winning, and if that’s all it took to make him happy once in a while, Garrett almost didn’t mind losing. _Almost._ While everyone cheered and Isabela followed Fenris to the bar to help carry everyone’s drinks, Hawke continued pouting and shrugging Anders off.

“Come now love, don’t be a sore loser. Let me have one win before we go back to Wicked Grace and Diamondback,” the healer pleaded, resting his head on Hawke’s shoulder.

“It’s not because you won, it’s because you killed me,” Hawke whined.

“Hm, you know I couldn’t win without killing everyone,” Anders muttered, before turning and speaking in a low voice right next to Garrett’s ear. “But how about I make it up to you later? I’m sure I can come up with something.”

The most pleasant kind of chill ran down Hawke’s spine, and he had to fight the pull of the warmth settling low in his belly to stay seated, rather than drag Anders all the way to Hightown to instantly take him up on that offer. Excuses to leave early were starting to swirl in his brain nevertheless, when a different thought halted him in his tracks.

“Hey, Sebastian,” Hawke said clearing his throat.

“What is it?” The Chantry Brother’s disposition seemed to have fully returned to it’s benign default.

“Now that the game is over,” Hawke started and he could see his friends’ interest shifting to his words, “who did you actually save that first round?”

Hawke knew the answer even before Sebastian replied, he could see it in the way Anders winced and then guiltily looked away. Muffin did the same thing when he was caught red-pawed in some mischief, but that wasn’t not a comparison Anders would ever appreciate, adorable as Garrett found it.

“You.” Sebastian affirmed Hawke’s suspicion with a simple shrug, and the slightest of vindictive glances towards Anders.

“Really, Anders? Not only you killed me off but you tried to kill me before the first round even started?” Hawke exclaimed theatrically.

“It was the best way to throw suspicion off,” Anders muttered, and there was a hint of real worry in his eyes as he glanced back at Hawke. _Now that won't do,_ Garrett thought.

“Well then, you have _a lot_ to make up for don’t you?” Hawke replied in a lower voice, pulling Anders closer to him almost possessively with one firm arm around his waist.

“Oh,” breathed Anders, before lowering his own voice to a suggestive purr “then we should get an early start shouldn’t we?”

Hawke smiled, the anticipation warming his chest and making him practically shoot out of his seat, pulling a laughing Anders up with him.

“Varric, I’m sorry but we-”

“Oh please just go already,” Varric said with a good natured eye roll.

“I think you should stay, I always like the show,” Isabela added with a mischievous grin.

“No!” Fenris and Sebastian interjected at the same time.

Hawke couldn’t help a grin at his friends' reactions. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said with a little wink to Isabela.

Their exchanged goodnights were brief, with Anders impatiently tugging at his arm the whole time, his sheer eagerness exciting Hawke more than he’d like to let show in front of the others. When they finally turned to leave, with his lover pressed up against his side and their friends’ laughter and raucous conversation ringing out behind them, Hawke smiled a different smile, soft, gentle and content. He pressed up closer against Anders’ side, like a cat seeking warmth and he felt the healer’s arm tighten around his shoulders in response. A different kind of warmth, deeper than the physical blossomed from the center of his chest and outward, bright and all encompassing. In that moment, fleeting as it was, Garrett Hawke knew what being truly happy felt like.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I am now tempted to write what follows the ending of this, will keep you posted if I do ;)


End file.
